FORWARD MOMENTUM! And blame Funkatron for the update. He commanded me to write… and the entire chapter dropped onto the page. Go figure.

The ending is good... the ending is good... The ending is GOOD! (squee!)

Pits
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

Page14

My ceiling has got to be the most boring ceiling in all the Ghost Zone. I suppose it doesn't help that I've been staring at it for so long – I could probably draw it in my sleep – but it's still boring. In all the stories I've read at school about people staring up at ceilings, there are always cracks and water stains and things that make neat pictures like rabbits and ghosts and faces and things.

Mine was just rocks. Believe me. After all this time, it was still rocks. There was nothing up there to look at. No pictures to be found by my eyes.

"Explain it again," the rat commanded from his spot on my stomach.

I sighed, closing my eyes. I was lying on my cot, feet dangling over the edge, hands laced behind my head, having woken up in relatively good condition a short time previously. "I figured the blades acted kind of like a filter for ghost power," I muttered. "I thought that if I put my power into the blades, then I'd get a lot bigger explosion than just on my own."

"So you just pushed energy into the blades." LJ didn't sound enthused, for some reason.

"Yeah. It wasn't much, really. I probably wouldn't have gotten much more than a small ectoblast out of it." I'd been two steps from dead, in reality. Not only did I go into the fight with a concussion from Walker, the two ghosts I'd been fighting had been the two most powerful ghosts in the Pits. I was very lucky to have lived through it.

"And you, quite literally, destroyed the pit you were in."

"That's what it looked like." I continued staring into my closed eyelids, images of the destruction passing behind my eyes. It was hard to believe that I'd done that much damage with so little effort. The thought sent a chill down my spine; I really didn't want to think about it.

The rat snorted and I felt him move from his place on my stomach and take a new spot sitting on my chest. "And…?"

I opened my eyes and tilted my head to by chest, staring into his blue, beady eyes. "And… what?"

LJ's eyes narrowed. "And what happened next?"

"I've told you before. I passed out. I'm not sure how I got back here." That was the truth, too. I collapsed in the pit after winning my fight and the next thing I knew I was on my cot with a splitting headache. The only weird part in the whole episode (aside from the normal) was the fact that I had been placed in a semi-comfortable position and I'd been covered up. I couldn't begin to understand why the guards would have taken the time to make me comfortable – they used to just dump me on the ground and walk away.

"And that's it. End of story." The rat studied for a moment, his rodent face blank of any emotion I could find. "Nothing else you want to add."

I shook my head. This was the third time going through this story and there wasn't any more of it. No matter how many times he asked, there was never going to be more. He wouldn't tell me what he was waiting for, so I had no idea what else to add to my story.

After a few moments of silence where he seemed to content to just stare at me, I sighed and switched topics. "So talk." I pushed myself up so I was sitting, forcing LJ to jump down onto my knee. "You promised you'd tell me more stuff about this place."

I'd come to the kind of startling conclusion that I knew practically nothing about the place I'd been living in the past few weeks. Only yesterday did I find out that the collar around my neck would, quite literally, kill me if I tried to escape. I needed to learn more about the Pits before I could get out of here and the rat had promised, somewhat grudgingly, to help.

"Fine," LJ grumbled, sitting up on his hind legs and wrapping his tail around my leg. His ears twitched as he looked at me for a moment. "I'll tell you the story of the blades – then we train a bit, got it hybrid?"

"It's Danny," I said – not for the first time.

He ignored me. "Your blades are made of a substance known as ectoluminum. It was invented several thousand years ago in the city of Atlantis." He hesitated, fixing me with a glare. "You know that the Pits were originally part of a city that existed half in the human world and half in the ghost world? And that it was pulled into the ghost world in a day and night of cataclysm?"

I nodded. I'd figured out that much from what Former and his brother, Mica, had told me.

"The blades were given to spectral warriors whose entire existence was dedicated to the safety and preservation of Atlantis. The blades were incredibly powerful weapons, becoming more and more powerful with the passing of time until they were banned outright for use by ghosts." LJ flicked his ears backwards for a second, a hard look in his eyes. "One mildly powerful ghost, equipped and well trained in the use of ectoluminum blades, could have wiped out the entire Atlantian civilization."

It was almost a reflex to glance down at my arms when he said that. My skin was still that same luminescent not-quite-human tone that it had been since the day I'd gotten 'stuck' halfway between my human and ghost forms. The blades were hidden just beneath that skin, the cold metal seeming to run through my veins whenever I called on it.

"You said that your ectoblast was much more powerful than it should have been. That's one of the ancient properties of ectoluminum. It acts much like a modern battery – collecting ambient energy out of the air and storing the energy in its matrix. When properly focused and utilized, that power can be used to enhance one's natural abilities."

"I tapped into that?"

He nodded slowly. "It sounds like you somehow managed to touch that store of extra energy that had collected without any kind of training. Those blades you are wearing were created thousands of years ago in Atlantis." He hesitated. "And they haven't been used since. You released thousands of years of energy buildup in one explosion."

"So… that was a one-time deal." It was kind of a relief to know that I wouldn't be able to do that again. That much power wasn't something I wanted to deal with. But I also felt a soft echo of disappointment that I knew came straight from my ghost side. The power that had been flowing through me had been intoxicating, and there was no doubting that a small bit of me wanted to feel it again.

"Most likely," he answered. "You probably drained the energy store down to a more 'normal' level. On the positive side, it will be easier to tap into now, and definitely more controllable."

"How?" I asked after a moment, absently sending a command through my head. Freezing metal seemed to swim through the veins in my arms, seeping out through the skin to form into the sparkling too-silver blades. Reflecting back at me in the mirror-like finish, my inhuman blue-green eyes had a deadened look to them. "How do I tap into that?"

It wasn't real interest that got me to ask the question, it was more of a knowledge of fate. The only way out of here was to survive – and my survival meant the death, or sometimes the outright murder, of others. I'd long since accepted that. But that didn't mean I liked it.

LJ's blue eyes shone and a rat-like smile twitched on his lips. "Close your eyes," he said.

I did.

"Food."

I looked up from what I was doing at the grunted word. The door to my cell opened slightly. A molding hand snuck in between the door and the frame and dropped a glop of red goo into my bowl. "More blood pudding," I muttered to myself as the door slammed shut again. "Excellent."

Beyond that, I ignored the food I'd been given. The glop given to the prisoners was barely edible – it wasn't designed for humans and it wasn't meant to keep you alive for long. Having lived on the stuff for all the time I had, I was probably a half-step from starvation and I was no doubt severely malnourished. Mica had promised he'd stop by and give me some 'real food'. I could only hope that he would keep his promise.

Focusing back on the blades extending from the backs of my arms, I stuck my lip between my teeth and concentrated. There was a specific frequency of spectral energy that would cause the blade to react and I had to learn to find it. Once I had that frequency tapped into, I could make the blades do just about anything. Grow in longer spears, turn into flat plate-like shields, tap into their energy stores, or any of a million other tasks.

I'd done it before on multiple occasions. But each time had been done under extreme stress and emotional highs; doing it consciously was a whole different bucket of french fries. The rat had vanished some time previously and I was left to sit and concentrate, trying to ignore the steadily growing throb in the back of my head.

I ignored the headache and focused. This was one of my keys to getting out of this place. As the rat had said, one mildly powerful ghost could have wiped out an entire civilization with these blades. I'm more than 'mildly powerful' and all I want to do is wipe out one mildly powerful ghost and get out of this Hell-zone. I needed to figure this out.

I more than needed to figure this out… I wanted to figure this out.

Taking a deep breath, I tipped my head to the side and pushed with my mind, edging the supernatural energy flooding around to me to hum a little faster, upping the frequency. I could almost hear it by this point – a soft background scream of power. The blades sparkled in the glow from the flickering ghost lights (of which there were now twelve in blues and greens)… but just for a moment something different happened. They seemed to glitter with an internal power.

Just a little faster. I tossed the energy around me just a hair faster, the soft ghostly hum becoming a quiet noise that echoed around the room. The blades seemed to shift and shimmer in the light. Then they caught the light, bent it, and…

For one glorious second, I had it. The blades glowed with a cool light and I could feel them adapting to my own thoughts. They shrank a little, becoming more compact, and a channel formed along one of the mirror-like edges. More like daggers than swords, my brain offered and the blades complied instantly, reshaping themselves to fit my desires. Energy flooded around me – I could feel the energy hidden within the blade's depths. Nowhere near as much as there had been, but definitely more than I'm sure the rat expected there to be left.

And then, as always, my luck kicked into full gear. As per usual, it was the 'bad luck' variety.

The collar around my neck zapped into life without any sort of warning and my concentration vanished like fireflies. The fizzling energy from the collar etched angrily through me, seeming to worm its way through my very pores, forcing a scream of pain from my lips. When the agony finally died away, I was left with nothing but the confusion of what had happened. I'd been so focused and calm… and then, without any sort of provocation, my world had been torn apart. There had to be a reason for what had just happened.

When the door slammed open and Walker stormed in, I couldn't find it in me to be too surprised. Instead, anger snaked through my stomach as I pushed myself to my hands and knees. No doubt he had stood outside my door and activated my collar just for the hell of it.

"Don't bother getting up, punk," the desiccated warden rasped, his dried skin rustling in dead leaves as he moved. "I like you better on your hands and knees."

Pure, unbridled ghostly emotion swarmed over my mind at the sound of his voice. Every single memory of Walker hurting me or forcing me to kill flashed through my mind. Rage – pure, simple, slice-your-head-off rage – sparkled into existence and burned through me like a wildfire. Words jumped to my throat, begging to be released, and my hands clenched into fists that trembled with the desire to attack Walker.

But I bit it all back and settled for a glare, allowing a small part of my mind to revel and thrill in the power and intensity of my own fury. I got to my feet, my body still shaking with that almost uncontrollable anger, trying desperately to remain calm. Allowing my already berserk emotions to gain control would only end up with me getting seriously hurt again. "What do you want?" I snapped, looking up into his raisin-like eyes.

Walker rocked back on his heels, studying me carefully, his fingers dancing over a small box attached to his belt – the box that contained the control to my collar. "What do you want, sir," he corrected softly, tapping the button gently.

I got the hint. My eyes burned a little brighter, my glare deepening to settle in somewhere around 'if looks could kill, you'd have never been born.' "What do you want, sir," I seethed.

"My knife," he said slowly. "I want it back."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lied, fury coloring my words so that they were almost unintelligible.

"So you say." He tipped his head to the side, oddly calm. "However, I have ways of making you change your mind."

I growled softly, feeling my body shift forwards onto my toes and my hands come up. I was losing the battle with my ghostly emotions and slowly edging into attack mode… and a large part of me didn't care. It would feel really good to have my hands around Walker's neck. "For example…" I ground out, managing to keep myself standing still.

Walker slipped around me, even having the nerve to turn his back to me as he bent over my cot. The blades that were still extended from my arms ached with the desire to slice into him and send his body flying in several different directions at the same time. I held still, watching, tense, ready to attack, waiting on the balls of my feet.

When he turned around, he held two things in his hands. They were the treasures I'd managed to get a hold of – and kept 'hidden' under my pillow. One was the picture of my family Walker had given me, the other was a scrunchie that Walker said belonged to Sam. "Give those back," I hissed.

"In a moment," he said calmly, completely ignoring my trembling form. He seemed to be completely oblivious of how much I wanted to tear his head from his shoulders… and of how small my amount of control was at the moment. "These people mean a great deal to you," he murmured, his dried fingers touching my family's picture, "just as my knife means a great deal to me. It's my family, you could say. I would do anything to keep it safe and get it back."

"Meaning…" I growled.

"Meaning we're at an impasse. You've got my knife… and in order to maintain the status quo, I'll need to have your family." His raisin-like eyes fixed into mind. "If I don't get my knife back, the next opponents you will see in the Pits will be your family."

The blow of that threat thrummed straight into my heart. It stopped beating for a long few minutes as I stared at him in disbelief. "You wouldn't," I whispered, the rage that had enshrouded me vanishing like a popped balloon.

"I want my knife back," he said blandly, "and I will do whatever it takes to retrieve it." The last two words were ground out, his finger reaching out to press the button on the small box.

I had a split second to tense before the collar around my neck once again sparkled to life. Energy coursed around me, singing my hair, and wrenching unconscious screams from my throat. When it was finally over, I was left on the ground, panting, tears leaking from my eyes and my nose running.

"Tomorrow," he whispered in my ear and I flinched, realizing how close he was. I turned slightly to look at him, my nose almost touching his. "Tomorrow you chose. My knife… or your family."

Then he pushed the button again. I screamed in agony as the collar sent more volts slipping through me, making me twitch helplessly on the ground. The pain faded and I rolled onto my side, my stomach clenching painfully, bile rising in my throat. I coughed some of the thin liquid out onto the floor, my mouth stained with the taste of vomit.

"Now, however, you get some sort of prize, don't you." Walker didn't sound entirely pleased with that. "But the rules are the rules – even for a criminal like you. Fourteen fights." He fell silent, his boot tapping softly against the ground as he contemplated. "Desiree."

It wasn't loud, but the wishing ghost appeared in the doorway almost immediately. Her red eyes focused on me and she visibly winced. Her arms curled around her stomach and she looked like she was trying hard to not back away.

"Make a wish, punk."

I didn't want to make a wish; I wanted them to go away and leave me alone. Spitting once more onto the floor in a futile attempt to get the taste out of my mouth, I got to my knees. This time there would be no alternate personality to steal my wish away from me… but I had nothing I wanted to wish for. I just wanted them to leave me alone.

Desiree glanced at Walker, then smiled slightly at me. "A meal, perhaps?" she offered. "You look like you could use something good to eat."

I shook my head dismally. Even though I was starving, the idea of food sent a wave of nausea through me. Just make a wish and they'll go away. "A notebook," I rasped, falling back on what I'd told Mica the day before, "and a pencil."

She raised her hands, green mist swirling hypnotically around her body. It flowed delicately away from her to collect on my cot and, after just a moment, dissipated into the dead air. "So you have wished it, so shall it be," she intoned softly. "Good luck, Danny Phantom."

"Thanks," I whispered. Then Desiree was gone, Walker stalking out after her and slamming the door shut.

And I was alone.

I fingered the collar around my neck for a moment, then shook my head sadly, pushing myself dizzily to my feet. Stumbling a few times on my way over to my cot, I landed a little harder than I meant to, staring down at the simple school notebook and the sharp #2 pencil lying on top of it. The red cover was perfectly formed, not yet tainted by the death of the Pits.

Spotting my picture and the scrunchie on the ground – Walker must have dropped them at some point – I scooted off the bed just long enough to grab them. Tucking the scrunchie back under the pillow, I gazed down at the faces of my parents before slipping the picture into the back of the notebook.

Jazz would no doubt be proud of me for what I decided to do next. I was going to spill my story, my emotions, my thoughts, and my fears onto paper in a desperate attempt to make some sort of sense out of what was going on.

Picking up the pencil, I started to write.

And this, my dear reader, is how this story started.

"Are you going to stop writing for a moment and listen to me?"

I shook my head, continuing to scribble. It was hard to write by the flickering glow of the ghost lights, but I was really getting into it. I normally hated writing, as my various English teachers can attest to. This, however, had struck a weird nerve. I couldn't stop. It felt too good to pour my worries out to someone and have them actually listen… even if it was just a red notebook.

"What are you writing anyways?"

"My story," I told the rat, scooping up a handful of the glop that we'd been given earlier. Mica hadn't shown up with his promised food yet, and I'd resorted to eating the almost-inedible food. I made a note in my story about the cooks Mica had told me about, shrugging uncomfortably as LJ jumped onto my shoulder to read what I'd written.

"Lutefisk," he corrected absently. "Not fish-flavored jell-o."

"Stop reading over my shoulder," I muttered, "I hate that." Wrinkling my nose, I jotted that onto the page, closed the book, and looked over at him. "What do you want?"

The rat hesitated, then jumped off my shoulder. "I stopped by earlier. Walker was here, so I couldn't stick around."

"I want out of here," I said darkly.

"I know," LJ said softly. "I watched, for a while. I saw what happened."

I rolled my eyes. The rat, in truth, cared only about his 'plan' and I knew that; whether or not I wanted out of the Pits didn't even register on his radar. But it was so hard to remember that he didn't really care about me when nobody else seemed to care if I was even alive. With a sigh, I pushed my notebook under the pillow and crossed my legs, giving the rat my whole attention. "What?"

"We need to move on to the next phase of the plan," the rat stated, his eyes glittering when he mentioned his plan. "Get Walker's knife, hybrid."

"It's Danny," I said as I got to my feet. It took only a matter of moments to pry open the loose rock near the door and retrieve Walker's stupid knife from where I'd hidden it. Dropping back down onto the cot, I set the knife on the thin blanket between us. "Here."

"How much do you know about it?" LJ asked.

I shrugged. I'd been told plenty, but I wasn't sure what was true. "It's a key, it opens doors and things."

"And," the rat added, "it controls the ambient atmosphere of the Pits. Since it's been in your possession, I'm sure you've noticed that the guards have been acting nicer and the crowds have been thinning. Walker's control over them is slipping day by day."

"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I noticed. So what's the next phase of this plan?"

"We need to break Walker's control for good." LJ paced forwards, placing both of his front paws on the knife's crystal-like bottom for a moment. "We need to give control to someone else… permanently."

I was all for keeping Walker from controlling the Pits. "How?"

He took a deep breath. "You have to understand, hybrid, that the key is just this jewel. The fact that it's connected to Walker's knife was Walker's idea. The knife doesn't really matter." He looked up at me, his blue eyes distant. "That, and the jewel is... like a heart, almost."

"What?" My forehead wrinkled in confusion. "I don't get it."

"Ghost lairs are controlled by their owners. The Box Ghost has a lair, Technus has a lair, Skulker has a liar… and each has control over their lairs like Walker controls the Pits. Every ghost has a key to their home; it's just that none of them have visible keys. They carry their keys inside of them, in their soul." LJ's eyes narrowed. "When Walker found the Pits, he stole control from the true owner by, in essence, ripping out the owner's heart. It formed into that jewel."

I picked up the knife, studying the jewel on the end. It wasn't very big but, from what I could tell, would be a beautiful sapphire color when you scraped off the caked-on dirt and dried blood. "Okay…" I could go with that explanation – Walker ripping out someone's heart was all too easy to picture and the thought that ghosts controlled their homes, their lairs, with their hearts and souls made sense.

"We need to give total control of the Pits to someone that can handle it by returning the heart to where it belongs." LJ tipped his head to the side, his eyes glowing brightly. "We need to insert the jewel into someone's body, making them master of the Pits forever."

No way was I going to put that grimy, ugly jewel inside of me. It wasn't just the idea of pouring all of those germs and diseases and infections right into my body… it was also the idea of being master of the Pits. That was something I didn't want in a million years. I wanted to leave and never look back. "What would be the point?" I asked. "We can control the Pits with the key like this."

"Not very well, and very slowly," LJ said. "And, with a true master, we'd have complete access to the portal leading to the human worlds."

I could read between the lines of what the rat was saying: I could go home. The thought made my mind freeze its one-sided complaining about putting the jewel inside of me.

"We know where the portal is that leads to the human world. I know Mica told you it's in the pit where the Box Ghost vanishes on a regular basis."

I could go home.

"It'd be rather simple," the rat continued softly, "kill Walker, walk through the portal, and be home."

I could go home.

"Hybrid?"

"It's Danny," I whispered, my brain starting to reengage, much more willing to look at the potential of sticking this jewel into me. I was starting to like the rat's plan. Kill Walker (which I wanted to do) and then go home (which I wanted to do). The only problem with it was the idea of me being the Pits' master. Put the jewel inside of me and be in total control… A question popped into my head, rolling off my tongue before I had even finishing thinking it through all the way. "Why didn't Walker stick it in him if it works so much better that way?"

The rat shrugged. "Partly because I don't think he knew that he could. I worked hard to keep that secret from him."

"Why'd you wait for me? Why didn't you do this years ago?" I looked up from gazing at the knife, curious and hopeful.

"According to ancient lore, a stolen key can only be returned by a 'Creature of Power'." He looked up at me, a grin on his face. "You. As a hybrid with ectoluminum blades, you have more than enough pure potential to be classified as a 'Creature of Power'."

I nodded at his explanation, a blade unfurling from my arm. I pressed and edge against where the jewel met the knife's hilt and applied a tiny bit of gentle pressure. There was a soft snap and the jewel parted ways with the knife. After picking up the two pieces and letting my blades vanish, I slipped across the small cell to hide the knife back in its hole. I didn't want Walker to show up unexpectedly, again, and find it.

But something was bothering me, tickling the back of my mind. "So… you had to wait until someone like me showed up? How many of these creatures of power are there?" I glanced over my shoulder at him and arched an eyebrow.

"Aside from you? Pariah Dark, Clockwork, and a handful of other ghosts nobody in their right mind would go near – and none of which would ever end up in here," LJ confirmed. "I had to wait for you."

I sank back down onto the cot and held out the small jewel in the palm of my hand, studying it. That odd feeling in the back of my mind was still there… I just couldn't put what it was into words. "How'd you know I'd end up in here?"

"It was in the plan."

LJ's flippant reply sent a chill up my spine, making that tickle in the back of my mind burst into fireworks. I knew I was close, but I couldn't it figure out. It was just… too many coincidences, maybe. Me ending up in here just like the rat wanted. Ending up in the one cell in the Pits that the rat could access. Ending up as a hybrid, like the rat needed, with ectoluminum blades.

Finally I just gave a mental shrug and pushed the problem away. I'd kill Walker, get home, and then contemplate what it all meant. Focusing back on the task at hand, I held up the jewel, watching the dirty edges glint in the flickering ghost lights, and realized that LJ hadn't ever said exactly who we would be putting the jewel inside of. "Who are we sticking this into?" I waited, half-fearing the answer. I didn't want that jewel inside of me… but fate, destiny, and previous experience were informing that I'd be sticking that thing in me before much longer. That just appeared to be my lot in life.

The rat looked at me, a rodent smile on his face, but a knock on the door sent him scurrying under the cot before he could answer. I snuck the tiny jewel into the pocket of my pants and stood up, waiting for the door to open.

It was a pair of guards. "Time for your fight."

As I took a few steps forwards, I heard a soft growl from under the cot. LJ's plan had been temporarily thrown out of schedule and, apparently, he didn't like it.

I stepped in to Former's office, struggling to keep from sticking my hand into my pocket to make sure the jewel was still there. It was too powerful, too important, to lose due to a hole in a pocket. "Hey," I said to Former, listening to the door close softly behind me. "Morning."

"Evening," he corrected absently, writing in his book. "It's almost night, in some parts of the human world."

I thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "True."

"Walker's started something new and it's giving me a headache," Former groused, glancing up. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark rings under his eyes. "It's not enough to be in charge of the deaths of thousands of sentient beings, but now I have to organize it into a game."

"A game?" I took a few steps, glancing over the top of the huge book. The page was covered in what looked like one of the tournament grids we used in gym.

"We're doing a tournament. Winner takes all." Former leaned back, set his pen down, and ran a hand through his dark hair. "According to the 'rules' Walker put out yesterday, the winner is free."

I looked up at him, surprise sparkling inside of me. "Free?"

"That's what it says. Collar off, escort to the door, clean slate. Free. And I have to organize the whole damned thing." He glared down at the paper. "It's just sixteen fighters in four rounds. You wouldn't think it'd be so hard. Each fight needs a pit and to get the ghosts in the right order…" he trailed off, his eyes glazing.

"Interesting," I said tonelessly. It was kind of interesting that Walker would free someone, but I was planning on being gone long before any sort of tournament would be played out. I had a key. I knew where the portals were. I was gone as soon as I dealt with Walker and the collar around my neck. Destroy Walker, save a few hundred lives, set the innocents free, get to go home… I was growing to like the rat's plan more and more.

Former suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh! I was going to tell you." He leaned over his book, he voice dropping to a whisper. I had to lean forwards to catch what he was saying. "Something weird has been in the air lately. I'm not sure what it is, but everyone is starting to act a little strangely." He paused, sending me an unreadable look. "And they're talking. Talking about how wrong the Pits are. Talking about how much they hate being here. Talking about leaving. We've been getting together and discussing what we could do, maybe overrun the guards or something and get out of here. The plan's not really set yet, but we've got some things in the works."

I grinned. I knew what the 'weird thing' in the air was; it meant the key was working. Walker's entire enterprise was unraveling around him.

"Anyways, we've got this device we're working on we think will short circuit our collars for a few minutes. If we can get it going, are you in on helping with an escape attempt?" He studied me intently.

"I want to go home," I nodded. If the rat's plan fell through, I was always up for a second option. And a third, if Skulker's 'rebels' came through. And maybe even a fourth, if my dreams about my parents were as real as I thought they were. "Count me in."

A smile split his face. "Excellent," he said, glancing towards the doors when they creaked and started to open. "We'll talk later."

Nodding, I pushed away from his desk and headed towards my next pit fight. "Who'm I fighting?" I asked, twisting around to look back at him as the large double doors finished swinging open with a loud bang.

"Some human girl," Former replied distractedly, already buried back into his calculations.

The doors slammed shut and I turned to trudge down the hallway into the arena, fighting to keep the smile off my face. I had so many escape plans in motion that there was no doubt I'd be out of here soon. Not even the knowledge of the pending murder of the 'human girl' could get my spirits down. I was home free.

Beside me, the guards seemed a little nervous, glancing up at me every now and then. I figured it was the half-smile on my face that was doing it. Back when I first arrived, these guys had to wrestle me onto the pit floor. Now – they were more of an honor guard than anything else.

The thought made me falter a little. I could see myself, striding into the arena with a small smile on my face, guards arranged around me like a parade, the strongest fighter in the Pits: a confident and arrogant murderer. The crowds would love it, I'm sure. And I'd probably scare the snot out of the human I was supposed to be fighting.

My smile vanished, my fists clenched, and the guards around me took a small step away from me. The Pits were changing me. Too much, too quickly, and in a direction I didn't want to go. I didn't want to be feared; I wanted to be liked.

I needed to get out of this place before I lost who I really was all together.

Caught up in my thoughts, walking without really looking where I was going, I barely noticed when we passed onto the pit floor. The sand was hard and dry under my feet, the crowds a dim roar in the background.

"Danny?"

The familiar voice brought me up short, my head jerking up and my eyes focusing on my opponent. The human stared back at me with disbelief written all over her face. My whole body was trembling, my eyes wide, my thoughts totally nonexistent. I couldn't quite process anything as I stared into the eyes of one of my best friends.

Finally her name tumbled out of my mouth, my voice tinged with despair. "Valerie."

"Danny, what's going on?" Valerie demanded, taking a few steps towards me. Her eyes flickered over my body, her face displaying her total disbelief. "What happened to you? Where…"

One of the guards nudged me, muttering, "Get to your spot so we can leave," adding a soft, "please," after a moment. I nodded, my mind still not engaging, and took a few steps forwards. The guards, taking their cue, vanished.

"Valerie… I…" I have to kill Valerie. The thought popped out of nowhere, sending a deep thrill of dread echoing through me. "I…" I have to kill you. I couldn't complete the sentence.

She stormed forwards, the badly-fitting and dinged blades on her arms sparkling in the dim lights. "Where are we? I was thrown in some stupid dark dungeon and then dragged out here! What's going on?"

"We're in the Pits," I whispered mechanically. "We're supposed to fight to the death." How was I going to kill Valerie? I liked Valerie.

"Death?" Valerie came up short, blinking in surprise.

The world was spinning around me, everything tilting wildly from side to side. "Only one person can leave." I wasn't sure that I actually said it aloud, but the thought that was echoing around in my head rang loudly in my ears. I have to kill you.

Her head turned, looking around at the small arena and up into the crowds. I followed her gaze, startled at how few ghosts were in the stands. Looking a bit closer, I noticed that a lot of them were wearing green cloaks – Skulker's rebels – and they almost outnumbered the ones were weren't.

"We've been really worried about you," she said, breaking the silence. "Your parents…"

"I know," I interrupted, glancing down at the ground. I didn't want to hear about my parents right now. I needed to think. There had to be a way out of this; I couldn't kill Valerie.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

I looked up at her, dragged out of my thoughts by two words I thought I'd never hear Valerie say. "About what?"

She sighed. "About not listening to you. About hunting you. About… everything." Her eyes hardened. "I'll make it up to you."

The smile on my face was morose. Here she was apologizing to me – didn't she realize that didn't matter right now? We had more important things to think about. "You realize that I'm going to have to kill you in a minute, right?" I watched her expression falter as that thought penetrated into her mind. "One of us is going to die."

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes blank.

I continued, mercilessly, hating myself for what I was saying but needing her to understand what we were stuck in. Now wasn't a time to reminisce, now wasn't the time to apologize. "The odds are stacked against you, Valerie. I'm the highest ranking fighter in the Pits. I've killed over a dozen other fighters; I've gone up against the best you can find." My eyes were glowing fiercely. "I've murdered innocent people to stay alive, Valerie."

Her mouth finally closed and she took a small step backwards, understanding flooding through her face.

"One was a little girl," I whispered, taking a step towards her even as she stumbled back a little more. "She knew who I was; she thought I'd protect her and I killed her. One was a ghost who refused to fight me, I had to kill him when he wouldn't raise a hand to save himself." A few more steps and Valerie tripped, falling onto her back, staring up at me. I refused to stop and think about what I looked like right at that moment. I was a murderer and I knew it. "And just this last fight, I watched a little boy die, his head smashed like a pumpkin, and all I did was watch." I took another step, staring down at her from just beyond the stretch of her blades – just in case she decided to attack. "Do you understand, Valerie?"

She nodded, her eyes wide as she gazed up at me. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Apologize later," I said simply, crossing my arms, "we've got more important things to figure out right now."

"But," she finally rasped, "won't I be dead later?"

A small grin flickered onto my face. "Not if I can help it." I reached out a hand to help her to her feet. Her eyes jumped from my face to my hand a few times before she snagged it and I hauled her to her feet. "But we need to buy some time to come up with a plan."

She still looked rattled, but she nodded. "I can do that." Then, without warning, she kicked out with her feet and knocked my legs out from under me.

Hitting the ground as I fell, I rolled to the side and was back on my feet in an instant, but Valerie was already coming at me, one of her blades slicing for my head. I raised an arm, my own blades flooding through my veins in a rush of cold metal and boiling into existence an instant before Valerie's crashed into mine. "Careful, those blades are really sharp," I muttered.

Valerie blinked, backpedaling at the sudden appearance of my blades. "How did you do that?"

I smiled grimly. "Practice."

She nodded, rocking back on her heels for a moment, her eyes hardening at the knowledge of what I meant by 'practice'. Two quick steps to the side and she lowered herself into a crouch, her blades coming up in a clumsy guard position.

I took the initiative, slipping forwards and taking a slow pass at her head. She blocked it, rolling backwards and out of the way before settling back onto her feet. "That's not going to fool them," she said softly.

We locked gazes for a moment and I watched a shiver sneak down her spine. "Okay."

She was moving a split-second later, her powerful legs carrying her the distance between us in a matter of a heartbeat. A blade snaked at me from up top, another from a different direction, pulling back and darting towards me without warning. One leg cut at my feet, hoping to trip me up. Years and years of martial arts training were coming into use as Valerie 'fought' with me.

It wasn't nearly enough. Even before Walker threw me into the Pits to fight, I'd been better than her. I had supernatural speed, strength, and agility on my side that no human could possibly match up with. Now, with practice fighting to save my very existence, she didn't stand a chance. I blocked each one of her strikes easily, making a few cuts of my own, and scuttled backwards away from her kicks.

I could see amazement bloom on her face as I ducked a few of her wilder swings, then dropped lower to slice her feet out from underneath her. Unable to dodge in time, she tripped and landed heavily, scrambling back to her feet instantly, falling back into a guard. For a moment we stared at each other, then she attacked again. Left, right, jab, side kick.

I dodged or blocked them all, allowing her to push me backwards across the sandy floor of the pit, not even really trying. My mind was busy searching for a way to get us both out of this situation alive. Unfortunately, it kept coming back empty. One died, one lived… that was the nature of the Pits. That was Walker's rule and he was still the master of this place.

Grinding my teeth together with a defeated growl, I let my hands drop to my sides. This was all so pointless. I wasn't going to be able to figure out a way to keep us both alive.

Either Valerie or I was doomed.

She hesitated when she saw my hands drop to my sides, but then her face hardened and she attacked again. She jumped at the last moment, propelling herself into the air and sending a kick towards my head. I ducked, slipping to the side, catching her swiping blades on my own.

Landing on her feet and catching her balance, Valerie was back in motion almost instantly. She slammed out with her feet and her arms, trying desperately to land a hit on me. Blocking, ducking, and dodging, I kept her away. Suddenly, one kick made it through my guard and slammed painfully into the side of my leg.

"Sorry," Valerie breathed when I jumped backwards, limping a little.

I shook my head, falling back into a guard as Valerie came at me again. There wasn't any way to save both our lives – the only hope would have been to try to escape… only there was a ghost shield, hundreds of guards, Walker, and the collar around my neck standing in the way. An escape attempt would have killed us both.

Blocking a wild swing of her blades, I backpedaled for a moment, watching her strong body move across the pit floor. Valerie was one of my friends and I still had a bit of a crush on her most days. She was beautiful and powerful, her movements fluid and graceful even as she attacked me.

One of us had to die… there was just the question of which one. Could I bring myself to kill my friend? I snarled softly to myself as she closed the distance between us, using her blades and her feet to drive me backwards again. I'd never been able to bring myself to attack Valerie before, much less kill her.

But I wasn't going to die, not after everything I'd been through. Hundreds, if not thousands, of lives were hanging in the balance. Walker's Pits had to be destroyed, that much I believed in. Like it or not, I was probably the best chance anyone had to get that done. I had to free Former and Mica. I had to free all the innocent ghosts and humans that were in the cells. I had to keep anyone else from getting thrown into this death ring.

I had to live.

Valerie, in a strange move I couldn't quite follow, jumped into the air and managed to get in more than one kick towards my head. I ducked below her kicks and when she landed on one foot and slammed out with the other, my head was neatly placed right in the way. Pushing myself in the air a split second before Valerie's foot would have connected with my face, I flipped backwards and landed hard, my breath starting to rasp in my throat as I stared at her.

She grinned at me, knowing how close she'd come to knocking me out, but I didn't return the smile. I stared at her, my gaze hard. Then I shook my head, watching her smile fade as understanding flooded her mind.

This game we were playing was done.

No more practice.

No more pretend.

This fight was for real now.

Her arm sliced towards me, her blade whistling in the air. I stopped it dead in the air with my own blade, her human muscles not a match for my supernatural strength, watching as a startled look crossed Valerie's face. Striking out with my own blade, I cut at her legs. She managed to get her blade in between to block it, but I slammed into it with a crushing amount of power. Her arm twisted unnaturally as it was pushed out of the way, my blade leaving a line of blood on her arm and her leg.

Valerie gasped, stumbling backwards away from me, a new level of understanding flooding onto her face as she held her arm close to her chest. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me, a tiny bit of fear sparkling in her gaze. Finally she knew… she understood. She only won because I let her.

I took a deep breath, letting my eyes close a little, feeling the emotions that were swirling around Valerie. Fear, pain, panic, and understanding were coalescing around her. Her terror was sticky sweet, sliding through me and coiling inside of my chest, energizing me.

Crouching, I studied her for one last moment. Valerie, my friend, my crush, my first 'real' girlfriend… strong, beautiful, and intelligent. Power flooded around me, curling on my blades and arcing into a visible emerald aura around me. "I'm sorry," I said softly. She was dead; she never stood a chance.

Her arms were up in a guard, her balance on the balls of her feet, her green eyes locked on mine. I could feel her emotions, I could feel the despair etch through her as she realized she didn't stand a chance. The next attack would be the last and we both knew it. But she didn't give up, she didn't back down. She waited, watching, defiant until the end, her glistening eyes catching the lights from my own aura and sparkling like a ghost portal…

A ghost portal…

A PORTAL!

One hand flashed down to my pocket, the jewel hard and welcome beneath my fingers. A grin split my face, a bubble of agonized laughter making its way out of my mouth. Valerie backed up a little at my smile, unsure of what I was doing, terror glittering in her eyes.

I was in the right pit and I had the key to open up the portal. Glancing around, I tried desperately to remember where the Box Ghost had vanished. It was over there, right? My breath caught in my throat as my plan pulled itself together in my head. I'd have to move fast. If Walker figured out what I was up to, he'd activate my collar and stop it in an instant.

Without another thought, I threw myself out of my crouch and rocketed towards Valerie, my blades sparkling as they made a half-hearted attempt at an attack. She blocked them, surprise echoing loudly in her aura as she easily beat them out of the way. I spun, sending a slow kick towards her stomach. She stumbled backwards, easily avoiding the kick, and I grinned at her.

She blinked at me, confused. I came at her again, slicing with my blades, forcing her to backpedal in the direction I needed her to go. When she tried to step to the side, I was there, blocking her path. Back up… a little more… One more kick had her, as best as I could remember, in the same spot the Box Ghost had 'died'.

"Danny?" Valerie whispered, confusion and fear warring in her in a wonderfully heady mix of emotions.

My fingers clenched tightly around the jewel and I took a deep breath, my mind fighting over what I was about to do. The rat obviously had a plan for this jewel, but I couldn't kill my friend. It was the key to getting her out of here. The only problem was that I didn't know how to use it. The instant Walker figured out I had the jewel, everything was over and done. No more plans. No more escapes. No more fights. Just done.

I hated how it was going to work, but there were no other options. I had to throw everything I knew about the key into play and hope it worked the first time. As a jewel the key would probably open the portal, but I had no idea how to use it. For the full effect, it would have to be inside of someone. But if I put it inside of me, Walker would know and I'd be dead in about two seconds.

I had to make it look like how the Box Ghost vanished. I couldn't let Walker know she used the key to escape. I had to keep Walker's attention on me.

Throwing myself at Valerie, I watched her eyes widen and her blades come up in a clumsy attempt to defend herself from me. Slipping through her guard, my blade slammed into her shoulder, stabbing through skin and bone and muscle. Valerie's arms twitched at the impact as a scream erupted from her throat, one of the blades slicing into my arm.

I ignored it. Yanking the blade out, I twisted a little, pushing the hand that held the jewel forwards. I found Valerie's sliced shoulder and set the jewel against the bloody opening, pressing the key deeply into her flesh and sealing the wound with a blast of ectoplasm. "Think of portals! Think of home, Valerie," I yelled over her screams. "Go home!"

She looked at me, her wide, pain-filled eyes meeting mine for just a moment before she exploded. Green light washed over both of us, too bright to look at, and I was ripped away from her and thrown onto the ground. When I looked up, the pit was empty of everyone but me.

Good luck, Valerie.

The crowd was totally silent, staring, and confused when I got to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. I turned to walk away, trying not to think about the blood that was streaming down my arm like a river and not daring to look around.

Behind me, Walker screamed.

"Does he know?," the girl whispered as she finished reading the page. "Does Walker knew that the key was…" She fell silent as that realization swept over her. "The key is gone." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "The key is gone, the boy is gone… and the Pits are still here. What happened to you?"

She looked around, her heart heavy. "Nobody's going to rescue me, are they?" she asked the ghost lights that were twirling around overhead. "I'm going to die here."

Her fingers traced absently over the words that had been written by a boy that was, no doubt, dead. The words on the page blurred.

After a few moments, tears streaming down her face, she turned the page and continued to read…

Thanks to muse, Kinoshita Kristanite, Kiomori, Nyghty, bluename, New Ghost Girl, PixieGirl13, Kit turned Mighty, Chaos Dragon, CatalystOfTheSoul, KareBare, katiesparks, Nylah, EdElricFan1001, FreakLevel27, Invader Johnny, ImmortalPhantom22, Hiei's Cute Girl, TexasDreamer01, hermie-the-frog, kdm13, anon, h0meskillet, Danny'sGhostWriter, Kimbala, Piece of Toast, TPcrazy, Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet, Moberemk, Thunderstorm101, Forget and Forgive, Enray, and ShadowFox123! I can't believe you all made it through that chapter to review. XD I hope this one was more manageable.

A special HUGE shout-out to EdElricFan1001 who reviewed EVERY CHAPTER since I last updated. w00t!

FAN ART! - http: / / sea-crest. deviantart. com/ art/ Pits-91888984 - Pits by Sea-Crest

FAN ART! - http: / / nightwatcher06. deviantart. com/ art/ What-s-This-87860655 - What's This by nightwater06

Hopefully going to get my next chapter out really quick... I lost my co-conspirator, which is why the updates have been really slow and sporatic. But since I have SO few chapters left and it's really gaining momentum now... I'll try to get it out by next weekend. It's my goal.

Bother me about it. /poke/

-Cori